


Red Wings

by Zanbaby



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Body Worship, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Caretaking, Comfort, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Dating, Dirty Talk, Dom Natasha Romanov, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Heavy Petting, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Kissing, Love Confessions, Masturbation, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Overhearing Sex, Overstimulation, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Sam Wilson, Reunion Sex, Romance, Sam Wilson is a Saint, Slow Burn, Smut, Spooning, Teasing, Tenderness, Trans Male Character, Trans Sam Wilson, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23230135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanbaby/pseuds/Zanbaby
Summary: During the events of The Winter Soldier, Sam and Nat find themselves romantically involved~
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is basically a development of all the moments sam and nat share throughout the winter soldier movie i.e. the winter soldier but if these two were dating. this fic is also going to be one of the last that i post for this fandom that isn't a commission so i hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it~ ♡

Sam had thought Steve was the hottest thing he’d seen in years, and then he saw _her_ , and she was _with_ him. But birds of a feather, he supposed.

He’d given her a nod, asked how she was doing as suavely as ever, but all her smile and her voice gave him in return were butterflies. 

“Can’t run everywhere,” Steve had said, and Sam replied, but he still hadn’t taken his eyes off the redhead, and as she pulled away she left him with a smirk that said way more than words ever could.

He wants her, and it seems like she wants him too. 

Of course, Sam plays it cool and gives it a few days, but he’d be lying if he were to ever deny fantasising about the brief exchange each night.

He figured he could count on Steve the lonely soldier to pick him up again on his next morning run, and he was right to bank on it.

Sam laughs at the on your left routine, already tired of it but not wanting to skip any pleasantries when he does _actually_ have a favour to ask of Captain America.

Not so out of breath this time since he made no effort to try and outrun Steve, Sam waits for him by the same tree and offers him a handshake when he approaches.

“I gotta’ say, you could turn a guy with those pecs of yours, big fella. Might wanna’ think about investing in a sports bra,” he smirks.

“Huh?” Steve smiles; making an expression like _he’s_ still the smug one here even though he didn’t understand a _word_ of what Sam just said.

The aviator shakes his head and claps Steve on the shoulder, a slight pang of nervousness blossoming in his belly just thinking about the redhead as he prepares to bring her up.

“So how ‘bout the beauty you were with — the one that picked you up — you two a thing?” he asks outright.

“Me and Romanoff? No!” Steve scoffs a chuckle.

His school‑boy blush and overperformative denial suggests that while that’s _true_ , the charming Captain _may_ wish otherwise.

Sam can’t exactly blame the poor guy of course, but if he has a clear shot with the ravishing redhead, he’s damn‑well going to take it.

“She did ask about you,” Steve continues as they amble through the park for their warm‑down.

Sam hitches a brow, trying hard not to let on that even the very _notion_ of her showing an interest makes his heart pound. He’s not sure he’s ever wanted to get to know someone _this_ intensely, but that gaze and that _smirk_ made him feel like he was being played with right back, and he loved it.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah she uh…” Steve halts, patting down his tracksuit pockets, visibly recalling his notebook, then retrieving it and producing a slip of paper. “She asked me to give you this,” he delivers, handing over the paper bearing ten digits.

Sam bites his bottom lip and shakes his head appreciatively, then holds it up in a brief gesture of thanks and slips it safely into his own pocket.

After learning that Steve won’t be getting picked up today to be returned to his exhibit in the Smithsonian, Sam decides it’s the least he can do to buy him a drink and a hot‑dog as they continue to stroll round the monument and chat.

As much as he wants to ask about his nameless beauty, Sam refrains from mentioning her again. He’s just as keen to hear Steve’s stories, and frankly, he’d like to get her name from the woman herself… he can guarantee she’ll say it in a way he won’t forget.

In keeping with his gentlemanly nature, Sam continues to play it cool. He showers and shaves when he gets home and reads through his newsfeed, not wanting to leave it too late, but not wanting to call that number within _too_ short‑a‑time of receiving it, either.

Not that she could _possibly_ know how long ago that was, but these feelings he’s developing are making him overthink things.

When it gets to four o’clock he considers that a reasonable time to ring her.

It’d be expecting way too much for anything to come of it tonight, but she did seem keen, so who knows? Maybe a four o’clock phone call from a handsome acquaintance might be just what she needs to decide on how her evening’s going to go. 

She answers on the third ring; her voice is just as deep and smoky as Sam recalls, but it’s candid and calm as she says hello.

“Hey, Red,” Sam replies, hoping that’s enough to clue her in.

“ _Oh_ , it’s Steve’s little friend. You boys have fun this morning?” she immediately enters into conversation, that flirtatious lilt to her words just as potent as he remembers, too; he can practically _see_ her smirking on the other end of the line.

“Yes ma’am, we made real good time today,” he chats.

“Is that so? The old man didn’t make you cough up a lung then?”

“Not today,” Sam chuckles, going quiet for a moment. “So uh… what’s a guy gotta’ do to see that pretty face again?”

He hears her huff a soft laugh, and admittedly it makes him blush thinking she’s mocking him.

“What?” he laughs along, just imagining what her expression must be right now.

“Nothing,” Nat reassures, shaking her head as she adjusts her grip on her phone. “You’re cute.”

“Nah, not the C word!” Sam protests; exaggerating his disapproval. “You don’t call a fella cute! He wants to hear handsome or dashing or…”

“Well hung?” Natasha fills in, causing Sam to splutter and swear out of sheer surprise.

“Wow… you got the dirty mouth to match the dirty mind, huh?” he goes a little further; fully into this back and forth banter.

“Yep, the double Ds,” Nat quips.

Sam finds himself momentarily stunned by that one.

He’d kept up with her flirting pretty well, he thought, but it seems the fiery agent might be a handful even for him… or even two handfuls by the sounds of it. He likes it, though. He likes it a _lot_ , and Sam’s never been afraid of a woman who could keep him on his toes.

“Y’alright? Did I stump you there?” Natasha asks, investigating his silence with another audible smile.

Sam shakes his head, biting his bottom lip again. He’s so glad she can’t see him blushing right now.

“Yeah… that was uh… yeah, you got me with that one,” he admits; ready to hand that round to her shamelessly.

“So, you a cocktails or coffee kinda’ guy?” Nat offers up.

“I can be whatever you want me to be, Red. Just gimme’ a time and a place,” Sam answers, picking the flirtatious mood back up with that confident rebound.

He gets another amused laugh from her, but he can tell she’s into it no matter how corny she thinks he’s being.

Sam scrambles for a pen and paper then when she begins detailing the address of a bar, gives her another yes ma’am when she asks if he’s got that and tells him not to be late, and before he’s even registered that he’s got himself a date, the call has already ended.

If anyone claimed to have seen him, Sam would of course deny it… but he _did_ do a little victory dance.

He arrives at seven o’clock on the dot.

The place looks busy, but Sam doesn’t mind. He’s a social guy, and while he has no intention to make any unrequited moves, it’s admittedly a better environment to find excuses to get closer to one another and add a brush of one’s lips against someone’s neck into conversation.

He is a little worried of how he’s going to be able to spot her in a place like this, but he catches a glimpse of that sleek red hair in no time, and his eyes land on her just across the bar.

She sees him and smiles his way, and Sam goes from being dumbstruck to suave in a split second, raising his hand in acknowledgment as he weaves his way through the throngs to reach her.  
  


“Hey, Red,” he grins, leaning against the bar and making a subtle pass up and down just to take in the sight of her.

She is just as beautiful — _more_ so — than he remembered, and she wears the _hell_ out of a little black dress like he’s never even _seen_.

“Here, I ordered for you,” Nat smirks, handing him a stout glass to match hers.

Sam raises it in a wordless toast and takes a sip, wincing immediately after.

“I this _neat_ vodka?” he asks, spluttering.

Her red lips are close to parting for a grin before she takes a sip of her own drink and sways her head as if to say, ‘I can handle it, don’t know what all the fuss is about.’

Sam flashes a coy smile. It’s clearly going to be a night of playfulness, and she got him good already.

“So, do I get a real name yet or…?”

“Natasha,” she smiles.

Sam nods to suggest he likes the sound of that, and then extends his hand to her.

“Sam Wilson... at your service.”

“Oh yeah? What kinda’ service you provide?” Nat prods as she shakes his hand.

“Uh, full coverage,” the quick‑witted aviator parries, that coy smile quickly becoming a grin when she invites him to actually sit down with a cant of her head.

That sensible memo that nothing is going to come of the night gradually becomes less and less memorable as the evening progresses, and soon enough the pair are already on their way out.

They’d talked and joked and teased, and Sam is pretty confident that Natasha is too much for him, but he’s keen nonetheless; never one to shy away from a challenge.

They pause in a low‑lit corridor; Sam had practically been herded here by Natasha, too distracted himself with their ceaseless making out, but he has to halt her hand when it starts to descend.

He licks his lips, trying to maintain a smile, but the dread of being rejected after all this build‑up is making him understandably nervous.

“I uh… listen, I’m not…”

“Cut?” Natasha presumes. “That’s okay, I can work with that,” she smirks, continuing to kiss his neck and push her hand deeper down his pants.

“N‑no, no, not that,” Sam grunts, pulling away before he becomes any more intoxicated by her body against his and her lips on his skin.

Nat frowns a little; curious, but starting to become concerned too, and the fear of losing this connection with her after getting so lost in the thrill of just being involved with someone again is now starting to really weigh on him.

Sam backs away, pressing his fist to his mouth so as not to let on that his breath is starting to snag in his throat.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Natasha says, catching him when she sees how he swallows like he’s trying not to well up. “Look at me,” she asserts, cupping his face and locking him in with her gaze to stop him retreating anymore.

Sam’s eyes scan her expression somewhat frantically for any semblance of a threat, but she doesn’t look angry at him or suspicious, just worried that he’s upset.

He lowers his hand and brings both of them to rest either side of her head, stroking her hair back tenderly as he glances down, exhales, and regains control.

“What is it, huh?” Nat tuts softly, rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs. “You can’t do that sorta’ stuff?”

Sam huffs a laugh through his nose and smirks.

“Oh no, I definitely can,” he nods self‑assuredly, directing his reply to the floor. “Just if you… wanted to do somethin’ to me it’s uh…”

“Too… big?” Natasha makes another guess, light humour in her tone this time at the prospect of _that_ ever being unwelcomed.

Sam shakes his head, but he grins briefly. It’s reassuring if nothing else that she can’t tell the difference even after groping it.

“It’s a packer,” he says outright, lifting his gaze again and searching those green eyes for any change of heart.

Finally she smiles and leans in to kiss him.

“C’mon, let’s take this back to my place.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Nat take it back to her place to continue their date~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please be advised any readers who may not enjoy sexual content of this nature as this chapter is explicit. as always, proceed with caution and pay attention to the tagged themes

They’re already losing items of clothing the second they shoulder their way inside Nat’s apartment. Sam is trying to get a look at the place; curious to see what her style is like, but he’s scarcely able when she has him so preoccupied with kissing.

“Mh! Nice coffee table,” he manages to remark, his bottom lip caught between her teeth, freed only to have her tongue in his mouth again.

They back their way into her room, stripped down to their underwear now, and Sam lets out a surprised yelp when she pushes him onto the bed before following.

Sam isn’t usually so easy to work up, but Nat has barely given him a second to breathe between having her lips on his, and now that she has the expanse of his whole body to put them on, she’s quick to target his pert nipples.

He bites his lip and groans softly, smiling when he feels her fingers gently tracing the twin scars under his pecs.

“You like ‘em?” he wonders, forgetting for a moment that Natasha has never known him without a flat chest, but she nods anyway and kisses the puckered skin for good measure.

There’s no real sensation to it, but Sam makes a sound; something jumping in him when he realises that no one’s ever done that before, and he’s never known how nice it is to be _worshipped_ like this.

He licks his lips thoughtfully as he places his own hands on Natasha’s chest, a throb between his thighs assuring him his body likes what its feeling, and prompting a hungry groan as he slips his hands into the cups and begins to knead her soft breasts.

Natasha tuts a laugh, humoured by his boyish greed as she feels his legs clamp around her.

“You like ‘em?” she returns the phrase, warranting a grin and a nod of his head as Sam huffs a breathy, ‘fuck yeah.’

“They’re perfect,” he adds, helping her to undo her bra and slipping the straps off her shoulders for her.

“Never met a fella that could do that on the first try,” Nat comments.

“Well, I’m a man of many talents,” Sam winks before hooking a leg behind hers so that he can gently turn her over and take his go on top. “God,” he says with an admiring inclination, “you’re perfect.”

Nat gives him a laugh that he hasn’t heard yet; pretty and sweet and almost humble as he smooths his hands up and down her sides, feeling the firm muscles beneath the skin and being reminded that her body is pure, toned power contained in an hourglass figure.

“You’re dynamite, Red,” he concludes, every syllable dripping with sheer admiration.

“You’re not so bad yourself, big guy,” she returns the serve, her fingertips brushing his abs lightly and drawing out a ticklish laugh as he sucks his tummy in to avoid the touch.

Nat leans up to kiss him then, her hand continuing the same route it had mapped out earlier; unrestricted now as she reaches into his boxers and grasps the silicone packer.

Sam lets her remove it, assured that she has no reservations about what they’re getting into.

“Wow,” Nat croons, her hand making a new bulge in his pants as she gently starts to finger him and finds that he’s already soaked. “You okay with this?” she makes sure, whispering it as she brushes her nose against his ear.

Judging by the suddenly sedate look on his face and the slight pleat between his brows; Sam’s pretty damn okay with the way that feels, but she makes sure to get his response before she continues.

The nod suffices, as does the string of drool that he quickly wipes away with the back of his hand before apparently deciding his turn on top is over.

“Atta’ boy, there you go,” Nat coos, praising him simply for allowing himself to feel pleasure as he stops propping himself up on one elbow and lets his body sink into the mattress.

Nat gets into a more suitable position between his open thighs then and keeps pumping her fingers inside of him, watching him with endearment over how concentrated he looks right now.

It’s almost like he keeps coming close to falling asleep, only ever grasping full‑consciousness when he notices himself start to drool, and offering Nat a cautioning smirk when she laughs at him. It’s _her_ fault, anyway.

His pants are absolutely soaked through after only a few minutes of fingering, and the lethargic soldier clumsily reaches down to try and tug them away from his body.

“We taking these off?” Natasha asks, taking the hint, but always being sure to get his permission first.

“Yeah,” Sam murmurs, giving up and letting her do it for him.

The brief lapse of having her touch inside him allows him to return to the mortal coil, and he blinks blearily and lifts his legs for her to free him of his damp boxers.

“Hips up, baby,” she tells him, grabbing a pillow to put underneath them before she slides her fingers back inside to be immediately embraced by the warmth of his body.

Sam groans and winces, rolling his head over his shoulders in resignation. It isn’t usually like this.

Not the fingering, but the fact that he doesn’t have to be switched on. Usually it’s more intense — more juiced up — bouncing in someone’s lap while they do this to him and he’ll be laying on his nasty boy routine, saying things that would make his mother weep, probably.

But this is something else. It’s no less passionate, but the energy is different. It’s all about him, and Sam can actually just sit back and let someone else have full control of his pleasure and trust them to give him what he needs… it’s divine.

“That… feels good, Red… that feels damn good,” he slurs, keen to say _something_ so she doesn’t feel forgotten, but it seems like Nat understands, because she hushes him gently and says, “I’ve got it, baby,” in a voice that makes Sam tighten around her fingers.

She obviously felt it, too, because the gentle laugh she gives in response resonates in his chest, and Sam’s cheeks are burning.

“You’ve gone all quiet, tough guy,” she points out after a few long moments of nothing but the sounds her fingers make inside him. Sam is evidently holding it in; his lips pressed together like he’s terrified to make any noise all of a sudden. “What’s the matter?” she asks.

Sam shakes his head.

“You gonna’ cum?”

Sam nods his head.

And Nat pumps a little harder, targeting the spot right under his bladder and pushing the mewl out of his lungs as his mouth falls open.

“I’m gonna’ cum! Oh _god_ , Red, I’m gonna’ cum! Please! Please g‑give it to me!” he pleads, moaning like all that he held in is catching up to him now and tumbling off his tongue like a landslide of aching ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’.

“Atta’ boy, there you go,” Nat smirks, encouraging him to seek whatever additional stimulation he needs as she watches him begin to tug his engorged clit between his thumb and middle finger frantically like he’s jacking off. “That feel good?” she continues.

Sam nods fervently, panting every now and then when he can’t hold his breath for much longer; his face almost purple with exertion until finally it hits him and he thumps his head against the pillow in silent rapture.

“Fuck!” he cries, not an exclamation but a broken, warbling whimper as he’s forced to open his mouth to breathe out.

He’s throbbing around Nat’s fingers, drawing her in deeper with each contraction as he’s left gasping like a fish out of water; a pretty stark contrast to the poise he’d been demonstrating so far. 

But he _just_ can’t help it. Sam doesn’t think he’s ever cum _that_ hard.

He winces and grits his teeth, trembling all over; panting, chest heaving, his cheeks flushed as he grips Nat’s wrist to stop her fingering him any more. He’s unable to bear the intensity — the overstimulation — and then, an involuntary sob follows and he throws an arm over his eyes.

“Oh, _baby_ ,” Natasha croons, realising just how hard that hit him and gently peeling his arm away so she can cup his face and kiss his forehead.

Sam makes a sound like he’s hurt, pressing his thighs together as the cool air on his clit sends a lightning bolt down the backs of his thighs.

“Here, sweetie,” Nat soothes, pulling the covers up over his lower half to protect him. “It’s okay,” she tells him, wiping away his tears with her thumbs

Sam nods, his lip trembling as he tries so hard to pull himself together, but the emotional release — the intimate connection with Nat — it’s just a little overwhelming, and it’s been a long time since he felt anything so powerful.

“M’sorry,” he hiccups, starting to get a little embarrassed now as the tears keep coming and he just _keeps_ shaking.

“No, no, no,” Nat tuts, pairing a gentle frown with a smile as she continues catching the tears in their tracks with soft swipes of her thumbs. “You’re okay, honey. Take your time.”

Sam nods and sniffles, holding her wrists gently as she keeps her forehead touched to his, hushing him as he cries out the excess of emotion. 

“You were great. You did great,” she tells him, and Sam smiles and tries to laugh, but really his ‘thanks’ comes out as more of a broken rasp. 

A little while later he’s clearing his throat, and then he pulls her hands away, prompting her to sit back so they can both look at each other.

“Should be thankin’ you,” he amends. “That was... _fuck_ ,” he sighs, shaking his head.

Nat smiles and lies down next to him, tucking herself up under his arm and rubbing his chest for as long as it takes him to ride out that high.

They stay like that for over an hour, neither of them saying anything, just holding each other and partaking in gentle petting and pecks on the lips.

“That was the best I ever had,” Sam eventually declares, stroking Natasha’s hair with every ounce of tenderness he can muster. “Seriously, Red, you’re somethin’ else,” he persists, brushing noses with her and capturing her lips intermittently before meeting her gaze again. “… You got beautiful eyes,” he says admiringly. 

Nat just laughs, but the suggestive touches and meandering of her hand up to his face, framing his sharp jawline and scratching his chin, tells him she’s still got plenty of playfulness left.

“Think you can go again?” she inevitably asks the question.

“You try’na kill me, woman?” Sam laughs. “Besides… don’t you want a turn?” he queries, mantling her a little and kissing her breasts as he begins to go down on her.

He’s halted by her index finger catching his chin, and he blinks up at her; suddenly innocent and earnest when he sees she shakes her head.

Before he can ask if she’s sure though, Nat is already rolling him onto his back again and hitching his calves onto her hips.

“Can you take more?” she smirks, slipping her middle finger inside of him to find he’s still wet and loose.

Sam blushes.

He’s never been with _anyone_ like this; never so keen to give him this kind of attention, but he’d be a fool not to let himself be greedy. He _does_ want more, even if it floors him like that again and he ends up crying like a baby, he _wants_ more. And if it’s what Nat wants, then he’d be loath to deny her whatever brings her pleasure too.

He nods, biting his plump bottom lip and watching excitedly as she gets off the bed and saunters over to her cupboard to retrieve a strap.

“Eight inches too big?” she asks with a glance over her shoulder, making her red locks shimmy.

A coy smirk tucks into the corner of Sam’s lips, seeing an opportunity to show off right back.

“You got a ten?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Nat are reunited after their first night together when her and Steve show up on his doorstep~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please be advised any readers who may not enjoy sexual content of this nature as this chapter is explicit. as always, proceed with caution and pay attention to the tagged themes

“Hey, you need some company?” Nat smirks as she appears in the doorway to Sam’s room.

“Do _you?”_ Sam returns the serve with that signature raised eyebrows look.

“Steve's asleep,” Nat shrugs, “thought maybe you’d like a bedtime story too,” she purrs, sauntering over and standing right in front of him.

Sam holds her hips with both hands and closes his eyes as she cups his face.

“You okay?” she makes sure. “I know it must be kinda’ scary having us turn up on your doorstep like this…”

Sam just shakes his head, giving her a light tug toward him by her waist.

“Are _you_ okay?” he redirects the question. “You were the one out there in all that mess.”

Nat smiles down at him and rubs the worried creases out of his beautiful face.

“I’m fine,” she assures.

Sam nods and rests his head against her midriff, relief flooding him as she gently scratches the back of his neck.

“I’m glad you’re okay… I just wish I’d’a known, then maybe I could’ve… I dunno’, been there to help…”

“No,” Natasha disagrees, crouching to his level now so she can gaze more deeply into his eyes. “I don’t want that. I don’t want you getting any more involved than you have to, understand? I didn’t want Steve to even _bring_ us here… it’s asking so much of you and you don’t deserve to be caught up in this mess.”

Sam smirks and huffs a soft laugh through his nose as he tucks the curtain of red hair behind her ear.

“Nice to know you think I’m capable of looking after myself out there,” he jibes.

“That’s not what I meant, Sam,” Nat corrects. “It’s not about capability, it’s that’s you shouldn’t have to—”

“I know, I know what you meant, Red,” Sam reassures with a smile, kissing her forehead. He just wanted to get a lick in to make them even again. Not that he’s keeping score, of course.

Natasha sighs, shaking her head, but Sam can tell that she’s smiling.

His little victory doesn’t last long though as Nat pushes him backwards onto the bed and makes a beeline for the waist of his pyjamas pants.

“Woah, woah, hey!” Sam hisses with stifled laughter, “the big guy’s sleeping, don’t forget!”

Natasha rolls her eyes and persists.

“Given that today was his first kiss since the forties I think he’s due a little education,” she smirks.

Sam snorts, thinking of what a horrible thing it actually would be for Steve to wake up for a glass of milk only to find his two best friends fucking next door, but then, maybe they’re not giving the old man enough credit.

“Maybe he’ll wanna’ join in,” Sam advocates, earning a wince from Nat that suggests this whole ‘baby brother Steve’ joke has run a little too deep for that.

“… I’ve missed you, y’know?” she thinks to mention, pausing for a moment once she’s knelt on the bed between his thighs.

Sam leans up to stroke her face.

“I’ve missed you too, Red… a lot,” he shamelessly admits.

These obviously aren’t the circumstances in which he wanted to see her again, but it’s a relief in some way to know she didn’t just drop communication with him for no reason, and being hunted by a super‑powered assassin is definitely a valid excuse not to call him back.

“Let me make it up to you, baby… lemme’ take care of you,” Nat purrs, capturing his lips and igniting the mood.

“… Damn… I’ve missed that,” Sam responds, cupping the back of her head tenderly as he pulls her down on top of him, sighing when she pushes his t‑shirt up and begins kissing her way down his chiselled body. “God… I’ve missed you,” he continues, really feeling it now that she’s here with him.

“I got’cha, big guy,” Nat winks up at him, halting when she reaches his happy‑trail and taking the waistband of his pants to start shimmying them down his thighs.

Sam grins, helping her out a bit by lifting his hips.

They both go to grab a pillow to put underneath him then, and chuckle at one another when their hands meet.

“I remembered how you do it,” Sam winks at her. It’s a great technique, and he’s been using it a lot on lonely nights lately, thinking about her.

Nat graces him with one more smirk before dipping her head between his thighs, and Sam bites his lip and smiles, eyes closed as he gives himself over to the depth of each sensation.

She drags her tongue from his asshole to his clit, slow and purposeful as she does, and loving the feeling of him clenching in surprise. 

“Nh~ that’s— fuck,” he huffs, prompting her to do the routine of back to front several more times.

Sam lifts his head so he can watch her for a moment — fascinated and aroused — his neck straining to keep his head raised from this angle, but the view of those plush pink lips clasped around his big clit is too magnificent to pass up.

“F-fuck,” he grunts, unable to watch any longer and letting his head fall back onto the pillow. 

He feels her hands on the backs of his thighs then, and she slides her palms up his skin; the hairs flattening beneath them then bouncing back up like spring grass under a footprint as she pushes his knees up to his shoulders and really goes in.

Sam groans, red up to his ears as he lifts his head again to watch, and remains fixated on the sight between his legs.

“Damn, Red,” he huffs, sounding awestruck.

He’s dripping already; long strings of cum stretching from her lips each time she pulls away to lick his clit.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, giving up again and letting his head loll against the headboard as her tongue slides back inside him. “That’s how you _do_ it,” he moans. “Eat it good, Red~”

“Hey, do you mind?” Nat smirks up at him. “A gal’s try’na work here.”

“Sorry,” Sam laughs, “I’m a talker.”

“Yeah, _now_ you are,” the redhead teases.

  
Sam just grins up at the ceiling, his hands finding their way to her head and his fingers gently carding through her silky hair as she begins to nurse on his pinky‑sized erection.

She’s so good at it, and he might be biased because he’s already pretty much in love with her, but he doesn’t think anyone has ever been _this_ good before. Sam isn’t the type of guy to let his sensibility disappear just because he’s got a crush, either.

After Riley, he was cautious to let anyone that far into his life again, and while sparking up his first date with Nat had originally been a whim, it’s certainly more than that now. It has been since he last saw her.

She’s not Riley. No one ever will be. But Sam is okay with that now. He’s had his time to grieve, and maybe it’s not just a new adventure he’s looking for, but a new kind of love, too.

“Nh… _Natasha_ ,” he sighs.

“Hey,” she pauses, smirking up at him. “Call me Red. I like that, it’s hot.”

Sam returns the smile and leans forward to kiss her, able to taste himself on her lips.

“Alright... give it to me, Red,” he grins. 

Natasha isn’t one to take orders in bed, but _that_ one she’ll follow gladly.

She practically feeds off the low, stifled sounds Sam makes. Understandably he’s trying not to be too loud given that Steve is sleeping just next-door, but he is letting his voice flow free this time, and it’s musical.

He battles again with the desire to watch, craning his neck as he holds her head between his hands and pants stuttering groans; his eyelashes fluttering and his brow creasing every time she strums his clit.

She’s kind of a demon, actually; those plush lips and that talented tongue doing just the right things at just the right times as if she can read his body like a book. She knows just what he needs.

Sam starts to bare his teeth a little as sweat drips down his temples and his abs start to ache with being in this half‑crunch position for so long, but his orgasm is close; he can feel it, and he’s willing — more than, in fact — to take some strain with the pleasure to make it all that bit sweeter.

He huffs another long‑held breath, starting to look desperate as he’s practically witnessing his orgasm being made; Nat’s tongue inside him lapping with wet, lewd noises and her nose pressed right up against his clit.

“Fuck~” he trills, “fuck, Red... I’m gonna’ cum! I-I’m gonna’—!” Sam warns her, having to give his neck a rest and gasp up to the ceiling in hunger for air.

Nat could already tell just by how tense his lower back has become and how his fingers keep twitching and gripping in her hair, but there’s nothing hotter than hearing a fella admit it.

“Natasha!” Sam cries, snapping his head forward again to watch her usher in his climax.

He holds his breath again, urging himself to look, but when it hits, his eyes inevitably shut as he winces and bucks, making jerky little noises which each throb until finally, he squirts.

Just like before, Nat keeps her tongue involved even as he’s coming down, but this time Sam doesn’t ask her to desist, he takes it in all its intensity, whimpering and mewling with his knees still up to his shoulders..

“Ah… geez, Red,” he sighs, his head sinking back into the pillow one final time as he trembles.

Nat finally eases off then and lets him put his legs down, snuggling up beside him and rubbing his chest like before to help him breathe through it.

“Atta’ boy,” she croons, “I bet’cha feel like a new man now, huh?”

Sam nods, his eyebrows almost meeting with the sweet, pleading look on his face. No tears this time, but he is certainly blinded for a short while.

“You’re adorable,” Nat concludes with a shake of her head, staying with him until he’s grinning and licking his lips, a sure sign that he’s processed it and is now back in his body.

She makes to leave the embrace then, but finds herself being pulled back into bed. “Hey!” she snickers, “I was just going for a shower.”

“You had one already,” Sam points out, a dreamy and satisfied look on his face as he keeps her in his arms to prevent her from disappearing. “Don’t go leaving me again now… lemme’ just hold you for a while… I missed you.”

Nat smiles; not flirty, or smug, just gentle and genuine as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“Will that cover tonight’s stay?” she then jokes, glancing up at his serene face and seeing a wry smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

“That’ll cover your whole rent,” he replies, his eyebrows raising even though his eyes remain closed and his voice is low and lusty; drenched with a saccharine, post‑coital drawl.

Nat adjusts the placement of her head on his shoulder, reaching for the previously folded towel at the foot of the bed and using it to wipe between Sam’s legs.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna’ jump in the shower with me, big guy?” she offers.

“Nah,” Sam declines, “you just keep doin’ what you’re doin’,” he teases.

Nat gives him a playfully unimpressed look and smothers him with the towel she just wiped his cum off with, and Sam puts his hands up to defend himself, laughing, but suddenly she stops.

“Wait… do you hear that?” she asks suspiciously, snapping into Black Widow mode as she puts a protective hand on Sam’s chest.

“Hear what?” he asks, a slight wave of dread washing over him when he realises what a vulnerable position they’re in right now.

“Shush.”

Sam frowns, listening close, but he _does_ hear it, and they seem to realise what it is at the exact same time.

“Oh, shit,” Sam hisses, covering his mouth to muffle his laughter.

“Huh… guess he’s not such a prude after all,” Nat smirks as she settles down again.

“You think he heard us? Maybe we should’ve invited him to join after all.”

Nat turns her head into his shoulder to stifle _her_ snickering now, but really if that _is_ the case — if Steve heard their love‑making session and felt inspired to have one of his own — then she does feel bad for excluding him.

Though, judging by the rate that headboard is banging, it doesn’t sound like he’s struggling on his own.

“Aw,” Sam croons, making a precious expression when Steve lets out an audible whimper next-door, and Nat is almost in tears trying not to laugh.

But Sam isn’t wrong to aw him, there _is_ something oddly endearing about the idea of Steve masturbating, and as intrusive and completely inappropriate as it is, there’s nothing they can do but to just wait it out until he’s done.

Funny though, it seems despite being on the run — their lives at risk and with the chance of them being tracked down at any given moment — _even_ Captain America can find the time for a little pleasure…


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since retreating from their fight and learning that Fury is still alive, Sam and Nat unwind after she's all patched up~

“Hey, hey, _hey_ ,” Sam chastises as he comes in to find Nat still up and moving around. “What are you doing? You should be resting!” he stresses.

“C’mon Sam,” Nat smirks, “it wasn’t that bad, just a little blood loss; a little tissue damage.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam dismisses, “you’re tough as hell, I get it. Now get your ass into bed,” he maintains.

Nat gives him a look, but drops the towel she was folding and concedes.

“... Yes sir,” she drawls, evidently teasing him but obeying nonetheless when she can see he’s getting worried.

Sam huffs a sigh of relief, running his hands over his head.

It’s been a hell of a day after their close encounter with the Winter Soldier and Hydra — a car chase, a few explosions, a near death experience here and there, finding out that Fury faked his own death — but all in a day’s work for a trio of vigilantes, one might say.

Already dressed down for bed himself, Sam gets in with Nat as delicately as he can so as not to jostle her with her injured shoulder.

He lets all the tension leave his body now that he’s under soft sheets though, and he gently kisses Nat’s good shoulder as he shuffles up to her.

“How you feelin’, Red?” he asks in a low voice as he gently tucks her hair behind her ear to reveal more of her neck to press his lips to.

She laughs softly, and Sam suspects she’s probably rolling her eyes right now.

“Stop worrying,” she croons, “I’ve had much worse injuries than this.”

“That ain’t what I asked,” Sam parries, continuing with his tender touches as he rubs the back of her nape with his knuckles.

“My shoulder’s fine,” Nat finally answers him, turning over carefully to face him and kiss his cheek. “But you’re cute when you’re worried,” she smiles.

“Tsh, I thought I told you about the C word,” Sam smirks; not an ounce of actual displeasure in his tone as he kisses her back.

Sam isn’t ashamed to admit that he was scared back then when they were being taken away and Nat was bleeding out.

When all that adrenaline starts to disappear and you’re left with the sobering reality that you all nearly just died, it hits pretty hard, but the only thing Sam could think about during those few moments on their way to the hideout was that if someone doesn’t do something, he’s going to lose Nat.

He’d tried to stay calm, but the relief when Maria revealed herself and assured them they were headed to a safe place was almost greater than the relief of simply having survived the Winter Soldier.

That was when it became apparent to Sam just how much Nat really means to him, though.

It’s not like he hasn’t noticed them growing closer over the time spent on this mission, but it feels almost like time spent between old friends rather than new acquaintances, and while things have definitely developed fast between them, Sam wouldn’t say that diminishes the value of what they have in any way.

Maybe it’s corny to say, though that seems to be Sam’s style lately, but it’s starting to just feel like he’s known Nat all his life, and since day one his feelings haven’t changed for her; it was truly love at first sight, and it still is.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his forehead touching hers.

Nat responds by gently brushing noses with him, though her eyes remain closed.

She must be tired, and Sam doesn’t want to disturb her, but the fear that moments like this will become few and far between urges him to just speak his mind right now while he can.

“We’re… a thing, right?” he asks.

Now Nat opens her eyes, and Sam is immediately absorbed by the deep green of them.

“Like a couple?” she assumes.

“Yeah… like a couple,” Sam nods, smiling as he finds himself unable not to touch her in some way; he’s infatuated just by having her near him.

Nat takes the hand stroking her cheek then and brings it to her lips to kiss.

“Is that something you want us to be?”

Sam bites his lip, feeling a sudden surge of emotion well up inside him.

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted,” he admits.

Despite being less open about her feelings, Nat has been having similar thoughts lately.

She’d pretty much given up on the possibility of ever having a stable relationship beyond what she has with the other Avengers. Romance never seemed like it would be in the cards for her, and if it was it was fleeting; superficial and shallow and not built to last…

Maybe it’s her turn to be corny in admitting that Sam is the first man to ever make her feel like her future could hold more than just missions and multiple identities and secrets and fighting and—

“Y’know, I never told you this, but a while back I saw one of your seminars at the community centre,” she interrupts herself; that memory surfacing to give her a moment of clarity as she begins to think out loud.

Sam cocks his head a little, surprised she never mentioned it and bashful that he never noticed.

“You were great,” Nat smiles, quick to reassure him that it was a visit of pure curiosity. “I have a thing for compassionate guys,” she confesses, her lips doing that coy thing where they quirk at one corner.

“Oh yeah?” Sam investigates with a slight blush, leaning in to kiss her neck as he pulls her closer to him. “So what does that mean?”

“I means… I think we’d be a great couple. Or, are… we are a great couple” Nat confirms, nestling into the embrace and tucking her head under his chin. “I feel safe with you, Sam…” she adds, her voice a little less flirtatious and a little more serious this time.

A lump threatens to rise in his throat at the sound of Nat being voluntarily venerable with him, and he presses his lips together as he kisses the top of her head.

“Me too,” he whispers. “When I’m with you I feel like… nothin’ could hurt me…”

Nat senses that his pause is for something heavier than a love confession, and she draws back to hold his face between both hands and wipe away his silent tears.

“I just wish I could’a protected you today,” he admits, “you got hurt and where the hell was I w—”

“No,” Nat stops him with a calm command in her tone. “I know you’re upset that it happened, but you know how it is; you know the risks. When we’re out there like that we’re responsible for ourselves and our mission only. You are not responsible for me getting hurt, Sam,” she soothes.

Sam nods, finding his composure pretty quickly now that he sees sense again.

“I know,” he agrees.

“But you’re cute when you’re protective,” Nat smiles, kissing him on the lips this time and feeling him smile too.

“Tsh, seems you just think I’m cute all the time, huh?” he grins.

“I do,” Nat confirms, pinching his cheek affectionately. “But there’s a lot’a badass in there, too,” she winks.

Sam just shakes his head. He’s never _not_ going to be susceptible to her flirtatiousness. She’s really like no one he’s ever loved before.

“You should get some sleep,” he sighs, chasing the touch of her lips a couple of times before they break completely.

“So should you,” Nat points out.

“Nah… I’m officially a boyfriend now so… it’s my duty to watch over you.”

Nat chuckles softly and shakes _her_ head.

“C’mon,” she prompts, “turn over, you can be little spoon.”

“No way,” Sam argues, “it’s your turn tonight, ya’ gotta’ give me that at least. C’mon… let me feel like I’m doin’ _something_ other than just being here to look pretty.”

“Well, you _are_ very good at that,” Nat smirks, turning over again to let him continue holding her from behind anyway.

There’s no guarantee that they’re getting out of this situation alive; the threat they faced today was sobering proof of that, and it’s kind of bitter to think that this is the path they ended up on together.

But even in spite of that, they’re weathering it together, and maybe it’s tragic, but all either of them can think is how glad they are to have the other.

There’s a tentative knock at the door then, and Sam lifts his head to invite them in.

“Hey,” Steve softly announces himself as he slips inside and closes the door behind him. “I uh… I just wanted to check on you two, make sure you were both okay— how uh— Nat— how’s her shoulder?” he stammers, turning bashful as he stumbles over his words.

Sam smiles easily and nods to him.

“She’s fine. You know this one, can’t get her to stop for anything.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, sucking in a sharp breath and making an expression like he knows _all_ too well what Sam’s got himself into for being in love with a woman like Natasha.

“You’re lookin’ a little lonely, big guy,” Sam points out, keeping his voice low as Nat appears to be totally unconscious now. “It’s a big bed,” he adds.

Steve is clearly contemplating it given the way he rubs the back of his neck, but one more glance at Sam and his warm, welcoming gaze gives him confidence, and he comes over.

Just as Sam was, Steve is conscious not to make the bed bounce too much as he gets onto it, but it doesn’t take him long to get comfortable as he snuggles up to Sam and puts him in the luxurious position of middle spoon.

“Y’alright?” Sam makes sure; grinning a little at the way Steve instinctively wraps his arms around his waist and holds him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Yeah,” he sighs contently, all the tension and worry leaving his face all of a sudden as he lays his head on the pillow. “Yeah… I’m alright.”

It isn’t long before Sam is the only one still awake, and for just a few blissful minutes he gets to enjoy having his two best friends either side of him, right here where they’re safe and sound, and all together.

Today was rough, but remembering that they’re doing it for Steve makes it seem that little bit more worthwhile, and if nothing else, it’s brought them together where they can cuddle like this and watch over one another.

And maybe someday soon, if their mission is successful, then Steve will get to have with Bucky what Sam has with Nat.


	5. Epilogue

“Hey, wait up!” Sam calls after Nat as she leaves the manila file in Steve’s hands.

“Oh, you coming with me?” the redhead smirks, ever the tease.

Sam tsks softly and shakes his head.

“I wish, but…” he glances back at Steve; still deep in thought as he pores over the image of Bucky.

“The big guy needs you, I know how it is,” she winks.

“I mean… I _know_ you can take care’a yourself, don’t think ya’ need me getting under your feet,” Sam admits. “But he uh…”

“He’s helpless, right?” Nat smirks.

“Well,” Sam winces, pretending to think on it and earning a laugh. “God… I’m gonna’ miss that sound, Red,” he tuts.

“I’m sure it won’t be your last chance,” Nat reassures, touching his shoulder affectionately.

“Yeah? That’s actually what I was wonderin’, see… if you’re goin’ away for a while,” he deliberates, rubbing the back of his head, “I guess I just wanted to know if we’ll still be a thing when you get back…”

That smile she reserves just for him appears as Nat pulls him in close by his lapels and kisses him deeply, leaving him a little awestruck when she draws back.

“That answer your question?”

Sam bites his lip with a shake of his head, just savouring the memory of the touch of her lips.

“Yeah,” he smiles, meeting her gaze and gently caressing her cheek for a second.

“I’ll see ya’ round, Wings,” Nat purrs, gently pinching his chin before she turns away for good this time.

“See ya’ round, Red,” Sam murmurs once she’s out of sight, sinking his hands into his pockets as he returns to Steve’s side.

He catches a glance at the solemn image of the Winter Soldier, and he already knows what’s coming next.

“You goin’ after him,” he states rather than asks.

“You don’t have to come with me,” is the reply.

“I know,” Sam assures. “… When do we start?”


End file.
